


dark cupid.

by ffomixam



Series: tumblr requests. [52]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Emotional Infidelity, Established Relationship, Infidelity, Kissing, Let It Be/Get Back Sessions, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Secret Relationship, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: “I n e e d some mcbeardy in my life so idk something with mclennon ?? John thinks his beard is really hot ?”





	dark cupid.

John was minding his own business (really!) one day when Paul, whom he hadn’t seen for a strange and long time, appeared with a beard. A complete, full-on, fucking beard. It jolted John straight out of whatever he was in the midst of doing and thinking as Paul (with a beard!) walked further into the studio, straight to the piano that rested further in the depths of the large spacious room. He must’ve completely copied the beard John had and shaved not all too long ago. He knew not if he should be flattered or miffed about it but he did know it looked fucking hot. John wanted nothing more than to put his hands through the coarse hairs and feel the round cheeks that were highlighted by the beard, looking flushed and pink from the cold outdoors Paul had just emerged from.

Straightening up from the chair he had been slumped in; he looked around in watching for any nosy people that would heed any attention to him for when he got up and over to Paul, (as he had planned to). George and Ringo were God knows where. Yoko had, for once, something else to do than follow him to the studio (which he pitied. He enjoyed her company more than anyone else’s). 

The studio was, for once and quite mysteriously, empty.

John sat up, stretching his thin legs and readying himself to walk the small distance when his mind wandered as Paul positioned himself behind the piano, stretching out his hands and fingers and started playing the opening melody to _Let It Be_. It was, he could admit to so much to himself, a beautiful song. Though his mind didn’t stay long to the melody that had become so familiar to him. His mind was still stuck on the beautiful dark brown hairs decorating Pauls jaw. John had never kissed someone with more than a moustache (and it had been Paul’s. They were high off their balls recording Sgt. Pepper. A great and different time. But it had been their last).

He walked to Paul in a daze, half in the soft melody with the other half imagining his hands going through the dark hairs and caressing the soft, round cheeks. Paul gave a small hop as John’s slender hands banged down on the untouched keys of the piano. Paul glared at his grinning face and he felt rather proud of himself for the reaction he had earned; the cherubim cheeks had darkened to a harsh red as he stared up at John with narrowed eyes.

“…’s just me,” he laughed as Paul continued to glare. This could easily evolve into a bigger thing than John thought it as. No more were they young kids, tricking and teasing each other as they used to. Very little could get a furious reaction out of one or the other and reach to an early end of the day in the studio. 

“Don’t do that,” Paul retorted in a stern, lecturing manner, reminding him of his old school teachers or, well, Brian. A small mutter followed but went past John as his attention swiftly returned to where it had been previously. It looked even better up close and John wondered if he combed it or used any products for it. John hadn’t with his own beard and so much was obvious when he looked back on old press pictures of his look back then. How Yoko dealt with it, he couldn’t say.

“It suits ye,” he said without any forethoughts, surprising himself with the compliment.

“I-… what does?” 

Paul looked at him with slightly wide eyes, clearly taken aback but not by much as confusion lingered as the dominant emotion.

“Your beard,” _and it’s fucking hot too_ , though John didn’t say that, (the coward).

Paul’s hand went mindlessly up to rub through the aforementioned beard; sending sparks through John’s messy thoughts. Making him wish it was his hand. Paul seemed temporary stunned by the compliment. When had John last complimented Paul? During one of their sexual escapades? Could be for John surely didn’t keep count of it. Only when it was the other way around and, _fuck_ , had it been a while since Paul had complimented him. And where it felt real and not forced to ‘ _keep the peace_ ’. Fuck that noise.

He didn’t notice until it was too late but, during his reminiscing and rampant thoughts; his hand had somehow formed a mind of its own and had found its (rightful) place on the soft bare skin of Paul’s cheek. And, well, he had felt no rush to remove it as Paul with a sigh leaned into it. And through the sigh, he softly heard his name. It compelled him to slowly lean in and connect his to Paul’s inviting lips. 

And, _fuck_ , it was everything he had hoped it would be. And what he had missed. Paul’s lips where familiar still and they moved in sync and not at all like the estranged lovers they could call themselves these recent months. And the beard was new, wonderfully so. Scratching him in a way he didn’t, and couldn’t, find in any kind uncomfortable or irritating. His other hand too came to a cheek as he deepened into the kiss. His hands travelling through the hairs in the way he had daydreamed of not even that long ago. 

It was only when they heard the slamming of a door off in the distance that they, in a startled fashion, quickly jumped away from each other. Gasping for air and looking around; John could see the back of a studio technician. He gazed to Paul with a shrug. It seemed the newcomer hadn’t noticed anything; he wore large headphones (not plugged to anything) snugly around his ears as he furiously fiddled with something John couldn’t see due to the large body crouching over it. So, with a wink to his old mate, he sauntered over to his former resting place and waited for the rest of the crew to arrive.


End file.
